https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/baby_driver/pictures/#&gid=1&pid=n-1662230
Click on the above link for a cool picture of the cast (eventually).
The big activity for today, Friday, was going to the movies with dinner to follow. This is how that went down.
As a recap, we are here in Vancouver with our friends, Tom and Ruth. They are staying in an RV park right downtown Vancouver, almost under a bridge. We are situated in an RV park in Burnaby, a suburb east of downtown Vancouver, almost under a bridge and right next to the train tracks. We are approximately 15 miles apart.
Ruth and Tom picked the movie to see. Baby Driver. They picked the theater. We agreed on a time….1:40. We would meet. What we didn’t know is that the cineplex was located in a mall. Quite possibly the biggest mall in the Western Hemisphere. All we had was the address. So, off we went.
Our Apple Maps GPS specializes in taking us hither and yon. Never ever in a straight line. Nope, it winds us around and around like a snake. Say, did you see that story about the guy in L.A. that had 3 deadly cobras sent to him in potato chip cans? Wonder how the authorities found that?
But I digress.
So…we took the most circuitous route to the movie house. Not knowing exactly where it was at the mall, we slipped into the underground garage and parked at the first space available. Then we entered the mall. Being the good tourists we are, we stopped at the Information Desk and asked about the theaters. Down the mall to the MacDonalds and up two floors. Okay then. Off we went. We walked and walked and walked and as the steps increased, so did our doubts. We ducked into a jewelry store and received confirmation that we were headed in the proper direction. Then we walked and walked. Ah ha. Spotted a kiosk with a map on the mall. There was no indication that a cineplex existed. WHAT? So, we decided to keep walking. Long story longer, we found it finally. In the meantime, Ruthie called and they were having the same problem. We told them to stop and ask people. That we thought we were on the north end and that it was upstairs. I then purchased the tickets at the ticket kiosk. And that is when I noticed the theater for which I purchased said tickets called itself, Silver somethingoranother. It was the darnedest thing. I alerted the Donnollys of the name. The Donnollys finally arrived. We checked in with the ticket taker and then Tom exclaimed, “Atomic Blonde? We were going to see Baby Driver.” Oops. I had purchased the wrong tickets. We debated. What to do? I decided I needed to right the wrong and headed back to the ticket agent. There was a line. It was slow. The movie was about to start. When the nice lady with her young daughter picked up that we were in a hurry, she offered to let me go first as she was quite early to see the movie they were going to see. After I took cuts and exchanged the tickets, I gave the ticket agent a $5 bill and asked him to apply it to their ticket. And off we went to see Baby Driver.
From the opening scene to the end, this movie was a kick in the pants. With a great soundtrack and terrific acting. Go see it.
Oh, and then there was Titus. He was the young ticket taker. I stopped to get his advice on how to correct my error of buying tickets to the wrong movie. We developed somewhat of a “relationship”, he was so fun. While I was exchanging the tickets, Titus told Tom, Baby Driver was the best movie in the entire group of movies that were currently playing. When we left, we thanked him profusely. He was feeling proud of himself when we left.
From there we jumped into our car after the long walk back and drove to a restaurant called, Wild Thyme. That’s where I received the parking ticket for parking too close to the intersection. A chicken shit parking ticket if you ask us. So, we had a built in conversation subject for dinner. Tomas, the retired cop, advised us not to pay it. He told us a story of a colleague that once received such a ticket and sent it back to the authorities with a note attached, “F%&K you. Angry letter to follow. “ Ruth said maybe we should pay. Ray was incensed. He had discovered the ticket when he went back to the car to get his hat as we ate outside.
Then the guy from the restaurant came out and struck up a conversation with him. We had selected the restaurant from Yelp. It was, it turns out, Lebanese. Couldn’t tell it from the name. The fellow that waited on us, was the owner. He had two women in the kitchen doing the cooking. I asked, “Are you from Lebanon?” No. Well, sort of. He came to Canada via France. He got two degrees in France and then migrated. We told him we found him on Yelp. “You have reviews on Yelp.”, we enthused. He then turned glum. He just had a bad review from a woman (with a head scarf). He explained he had good friends that were Muslim. Religion had no meaning for him. She was just a rude woman with an attitude. He explained she had come one other day and had been rude to his employees. She revisited his establishment. This time she was very unhappy that, get this, his employee had given her a brown paper napkin while customers had received white napkins. And the worst of his story was that she was going to ruin his business by bad mouthing him on social media. He was beside himself.
And with that he regaled us with wonderful food accompanied by white and brown napkins!
It was splendid table. Here’s some pics. Boy were we scoring big time in the eating out competition. Smokin as they put it.
After we consumed all we could, we waddled back to the car with the ticket on it, measured the space from the intersection. Swore a lot. Piled in. Zipped back to the mall. Dropped off our precious cargo. Ziggied back to the Burnaby Cariboo RV park which is located next to the railroad, almost under the bridge. Poured some wine (second meal in a row without wine or beer because the restaurants didn’t offer it), and settled in to watch Bill Maher.
Quite a day. Wild time, I’d say.
p.s. I used all those onomatopoeia verbs because of the movie. My driving was instantly more aggressive. It had an effect on me! https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/onomatopoeia
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